Tooth & Claw: The In-Between Bits
by thebaddestwolf
Summary: The Doctor and Rose work through some issues in the scenes we didn't see from "Tooth and Claw." Rose is trying to reconcile her feelings for the new-new Doctor and he is finally discovering his feelings for her. Rated M for the last few chapters.
1. Chapter 1

***Author's Note:** **The Doctor and Rose were all over each other during "Tooth and Claw" so I just had to fill in the gaps. Don't worry, smut is to come. Please forgive some very minor plot changes I made to make things a bit smoother. Enjoy and please share your thoughts!***

Rose tugged at the sheets on her bed in the TARDIS. Pulling the light pink fabric up toward the head of the bed, she smoothed out a few wrinkles and folded the top of the sheet just below the pillows. She tucked the bit of the sheet hanging over the side of the bed underneath the mattress - "hospital style" her mum had told her once. Chuckling at the thought of remembering such a trivial fact taught to her by her effervescent parent who was god-knows-how-many light-years away, Rose walked around the bed to tuck in the sheet in the other side.

That job done, she fluffed the white down comforter at the edge of the bed. Holding the two bottom corners securely, she thrust her arms upward, floating the light blanket outward over the bed. The soft light of the room illuminated the comforter while it was in the air and Rose could make out the outlines of the feathers it held inside. The blanket gently landed in place atop the crisply tucked sheets and Rose absently wondered if those feathers were from an Earth goose or some feathered alien. The corner of her mouth twitched up toward a smile. Knowing the Doctor, the latter was probably the case.

The Doctor. Her thoughts drifted back to him, as they so often did ever since he took her and and yelled "run!" If it was possible, she contemplated the Time Lord even more since his regeneration. She didn't doubt he was the same man - he had convinced her of that at Christmas - but in so many ways he was entirely different. She wasn't sure if he was still _her _Doctor.

Therefore, however unintentionally, Rose had taken to spending more time in her room while aboard the TARDIS. And unfortunately the most successful tactic for taking her mind off of things was cleaning. Rose had always prided herself in not minding the untidiness of her room back home - "It feels lived in this way," she'd retorted when Mickey scolded her once. Cut to now, when her room aboard the spaceship didn't have any crumpled jeans on the floor, bras looped over the bedpost, or dust bunnies under the dresser.

Rose ran a hand through her hair, looked around, and sighed. She literally couldn't think of another thing to dust, polish, or tidy and she _certainly_ wasn't going to organize her sock drawer _again_. But she knew she couldn't go out to face him. Not just yet.

With a groan, she threw herself down on her just made bed, crossing her legs and folding her arms over her face. Eyes closed, she saw him. Both his old and new self, simultaneously. They blended together until she couldn't differentiate one from another. She panicked, trying to envision _her_ Doctor, terrified that she would forget his face. That lovely big-eared face. She groaned again, more softly this time, sounding closer to a whimper.

She feels a hand on her knee and a weight on the edge of the bed.

"What's wrong?" he asks softly, failing to mask his concern. He knows this change has been hard for her. He curses his old self for not preparing her, for not warning her that something like this might happen, for not explaining the ins and outs of regeneration. She had risked everything to save him, taking the vortex into her without a second thought. His Rose did that for him and all he did was tell her she was brilliant.

They had started to get back to their old selves (or in his case, their old-new selves) during their visit to New Earth, but she still had a palpable wall up. He hadn't yet figured out how to tear it down.

So he raised his other hand to one of the arms covering her eyes, grabbed her wrist, and gently pulled it down away from her face. Her hand landed on the mattress, brushing against his knee, and he held it there. She let her other arm fall down to the bed, too.

She opens her eyes and the hazy image of her last Doctor scatters as his new face encompasses her view. She can't help but feel the heat coming from the spot where his hand rests on her knee, unsure of whether the heat is being generated by her or him. The thumb on his other hand subconsciously strokes the inside of her wrist, sparking the vein beneath it, shooting fire up her arm and into her flushing face.

She's not sure if he asks her what's wrong a second time or if his emotive brown eyes simply implore it.

"'S nothing," she lies, rousing a smile. He knows it's forced, but seeing her face light up a bit elicits a toothy grin from him. He decides to take her somewhere familiar, to help them get back on track. Earth, definitely, but not the 21st century - that'd be too obvious. Nah, the 1970s. Rose would fit right in and, based on the little he's seen of her dancing, he was sure she'd be amazing at a disco.

He moved his hand downward from her wrist, intertwining his fingers with hers. "Ready for our next stop?"

She truly smiled this time, her face opening, tongue pressing against the back of her teeth. "Course I am! Where and when are we going then?" She was always keen on a new adventure, and besides, nothing was better at taking her mind off the concerning matters at hand.

"Earth, 1970s," her chirped. "That's all you'll get out of me for now. Go on, find a lovely era-appropriate outfit in the wardrobe room. Just try to avoid polyester, if you can. And peace signs, those are more '60s. Wellllllll, there was some peace sign overlappage into the 70s, but not the bit of the 70s we're traveling to!"

With that, he grabbed her other hand and yanked her upward. He seemingly misjudged the force needed to pull her into a sitting position and she continued moving forward, chin coming to rest on his shoulder. While she was wondering if he had actually miscalculated the needed force - confusing anything related to physics was highly unlike him - he drew his arms around her back and lightly rested his cheek atop her blonde head. Her question answered, she froze for a minute before bringing her arms up toward his shoulders. His grip on her, tentative before, tightened when he felt her reciprocate. He hoped this conveyed at least a small part of everything he felt, everything even his new gob couldn't quite express.

They sat there, hip to hip on her bed, in silence for a few moments.

Rose was more confused than ever when she pulled away, fighting back the sting of tears. She felt like she was betraying him, and yet this was him. Something her brain could not yet reconcile. So instead, she scooted herself forward off the bed.

"Right then," she said, her voice sounding stronger than she felt. "I hope the wardrobe has go-go boots!" she exclaimed, half-jogging out of the room.

As he heard her footsteps echoing down the halls of the TARDIS, the Doctor pulled at the hair at the back of his head, hoping they didn't just take a step back.

In the wardrobe room, Rose moped about as she threw on pretty much whatever she could find that wasn't polyester. _Why didn't I ask what time of year it will be? _she thought, annoyed. She slipped on black thigh-high nylons, thinking they'd keep her warm if it was winter and could easily be discarded if it was summer. Next, her eyes landed on a denim overall skirt, which she quickly threw on over the pink graphic tee she was already wearing. Ah-ha! There were, in fact, black knee-high leather boots in just her size. She whispered her thanks to the TARDIS before skipping out to meet the Doctor in the console room. With the right footwear and the promise of a new adventure, her mood was brightening.

"What do you think of this, will it do?" she asked by way of greeting, attempting to clear the air of any lingering awkwardness.

He stole a quick look at her, glancing from top to bottom. It lasted a second but he cataloged it all, the boots, the tights, the slight wave to her hair, the reapplied mascara.

"For the late 1970s you'll be better off in a bin bag."

What on Gallifrey did he say that for? Before he could inwardly scold himself the TARDIS jolted, and he had to bang on the nitrogen compressor with a hammer to get her back on track. Finally she landed with a thud, sending he and Rose tumbling to the grated floor in hysterics. _Now this is more like it_, he thought. Not wanting to let the moment get away, he jumped to his feet and pulled her up by her hands, mirroring the movement he had done less than an hour ago. He couldn't help curling an arm around her waist as he continued to propel her forward.

Still laughing, he threw open the TARDIS door and pulled her out with him. But instead of landing in the midst of 1970s smoke and synthetic fibers, the Doctor and Rose found themselves standing on a windswept hillside, face to face with the barrel of an English soldier's gun.

"1879," the Doctor said, cringing. "Same difference."


	2. Chapter 2

***Author's Note: The Doctor and Rose have a much-needed talk as Queen Victoria's entourage makes its way to the Torchwood Estate. I promise smut is coming soon. Please review!***

At Queen Victoria's command the carriage started off again, continuing its path over the grassy hill that the Doctor and Rose now knew was in Scotland. Rose's skin was humming due to a combination of excitement at having met the monarch and adrenaline from having just stared down the barrels of several guns. This is why she loved their adventures so much - the rush made all her worries, fears, and tension float away like the breeze cresting the hill.

The breeze that doing an amazing job ruffling the Doctor's hair.

"And I thought it was bad when you got the date wrong by one year!" Rose scoffed playfully, remembering the look on her mother's face, the wanted posters, the old Doctor. She shook her head slightly, nudging that thought aside. This was not the time to mourn for the man who was walking next to her.

"There are worse things than being part of her majesty's entourage, Rose. We can visit the land of sideburns and bell bottoms another time."

"Aha, where's your Scottish accent gone then?"

"Ooh, you liked that did ya?" he waggled his eyebrows at her, slipping back into the brogue. He reached out with teasing fingers and caught her side where her t-shirt met the denim of her overalls and gave her a light tickle. She shrieked and jumped to the side, earning them a stern look from the head guard.

"A little bit, yeah," she laughed, then lowing her voice. "But won't they be suspicious if they suddenly hear ya talking like an Englishman?"

"Right, good point. To be safe, let's slip to the back of the caravan."

They slowed their pace until they were bringing up the rear of the group. Rose walked in one of the carriage's wheel ruts.

She looped her hand into the crook of his arm and slid it downward to intertwine their fingers. Walking in silence, on a warm breezy day, with her most favorite person in the universe, Rose wondered at her previous melancholy mood. She had to get over her trust issues. Besides, she was the reason he had to regenerate in the first place. After she looked into the heart of the TARDIS it was all too much, the pain became unbearable - that she remembered - and it was the Doctor who somehow extracted it from her. He glossed over the story when he told her later after the trouble at Christmas, but it didn't matter. He saved her and, as a result, had to become a new man. She couldn't blame him for that.

Pulling herself from these thoughts, Rose's mind landed on something he had said earlier.

"Was sixpence a lot?" she asked.

"Em, what?" he said, confused at the sudden request for a monetary calculation.

"You said you bought me in London for sixpence. It had better been worth a lot."

"Oh let's see, a sixpence in the late 1800s by 2006 GBP standards would be worth about oh... £1.80."

"One pound eighty?" Rose stopped, yanking him back as he tried to continue walking. "One pound eighty! You couldn't have even coughed up a tenner?"

"I said that purely for comic effect! And how often do you get to say sixpence? That's a good word, sixpence, and a good coin, I don't know why the government got rid of it. And besides," he said, tugging Rose's hand so she started walking again. "We're talking about a purely hypothetical situation. I didn't purchase you. You are not mine."

Rose smiled at his ramblings, which she was beginning to rather enjoy. She leaned her cheek into his shoulder.

"I am, a bit."

His breath caught in his throat and he hoped she couldn't hear it over the breeze. Her voice was so sweet, so honest, so like the Rose he knew before he'd gone and changed on her. Once again her cursed his former self for not appreciating Rose as he should have.

He had taken it for granted that she would always be there. Since he regenerated, he noticed Rose was spending more time on her own - in her bedroom, in the library, in the kitchen - and less time in the console room with him. And in those times alone, whether it was five minutes or an hour, he missed her. Her laugh, her cheeky tongue poking through her teeth, her scent. He breathed deeply as the wind changed in his favor and inhaled pure Rose. He turned his face up to the sun, closing his eyes, savoring the scent of her. Even though they weren't in the TARDIS, he felt like he was home.

She squeezed his hand, bringing him back down to planet Earth, and he recalled something from before. Earlier that day, he had nudged open her bedroom door to find her lying on her bed with her arms crossed covering her face. She must not have heard him come in because she made a sound that sent a sharp shard through each of his hearts. It was a merely soft whimper, but he heard pain, and loneliness, and fear.

The sun was lower in the sky now, casting long shadows, the clicking of the horses' hooves and the clacking of the carriage wheels gave a lazy rhythm to the summer afternoon.

"Rose," he said softly, looking down at her as they walked. "In your bedroom before. Won't you tell me what's wrong?"

Her first instinct was to lie again, tell him it was nothing. But he had obviously seen through that line before. If she was going to put her full trust in him again, he should be able to do the same with her. She had to be honest.

"I- I'm starting to forget you," she stammered. "The old you. The way you looked, the way you talked." Her voice hitched on the last word and she looked away, not wanting him to see how upset she was.

He dropped her hand and she worried that she had offended him for acting like there were two separate Doctors instead of only one him. Her fears were allayed, though, when his arm came around her shoulder, pulling her into him. She put her arm around his waist and they continued walking this way for a while.

Finally, he spoke, as quiet as the wind that was playing with the long grass. If he wasn't speaking into her ear she wouldn't have heard him at all.

"I may look different, sound different, say different things, act a different way, but I will always be me. I could regenerate 100 times and I'd still be your Doctor."

She pressed her head into his shoulder by way of thanks, a tear gliding down her cheek.

"I know," she breathed, separating from him so she could hold his hand again. "And you could regenerate 100 times and I'd be right here, walking beside you."

She squeezed his hand and looked at him with a smile. He grinned back, wonder in his eyes, for once at a loss for words.

Finally, they could see a large manor in the distance and the carriage turned toward it. Soon they would be on to the next phase of their adventure.

"So, what does timorous mean exactly?" Rose quipped, feeling her heart rate increase in anticipation of whatever lay before them.

"Oh you know, sort of a nervous, fearful, un-confidence. What some might call shy." He arched an eyebrow at her.

"Ha! Well we both know that isn't true."

"Welllllll, some things are relative. Like your nakedness." He nudged her hip with his.

"Pfft, hardly my fault that I dressed for 1979! Sometimes I wonder if you put me in these situations on purpose."

"Please, if I wanted to put you in a unseemly situation on purpose I'd take you to the Tridenton sector of the Uberous Galaxy, but that's neither here nor there."

Rose looked at him sideways, suppressing a smirk.

"I am so not amused."


	3. Chapter 3

***Author's Note: Rose and the Doctor finally get some alone time in Torchwood Manner. All I can say is I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I loved writing it. R/R!***

The bald butler silently lead the Doctor and Rose through the long corridors of the Torchwood Estate. Queen Victoria had decided that everyone in her party would rest before touring the manor and objected when the Doctor insisted that he wasn't tired and would much rather explore the grounds.

"You two should be particularly tired as you walked here on your own two legs," she had said, eying them sternly. "In fact, at some point it appeared you had to lean on each other for support."

"We were just…" Rose started to explain before the Queen held up her hand to stop her mid sentence.

"That's quite enough. Please have your butler place them in separate wings, Sir Robert."

"Now wait a minute, she's my property," the Doctor started, his Scottish accent thickening his words in a way that made Rose flush. "I need to be able to keep an eye on her."

"That would be improper, sir, and I will not stand for it. Now, Sir Robert, please take me to my chambers. Your man can lead the Doctor and his… beastie."

And so they found themselves following the peculiar butler down the dark halls of the estate. It seemed strangely quiet, but Sir Robert did say that his wife had taken most of the servants with her when she left on holiday. Still, Rose thought, something just didn't seem right.

The man brought them to the Doctor's room first, merely opening the door, nodding at the Time Lord, and stepping aside. No sooner had the Doctor crossed the threshold did the butler continue on his way down the long hallway.

The Doctor gave Rose a reassuring look. "I'll meet you in the main foyer in 30 minutes," he said. "Best to play by the Queen's rules. They no longer do beheadings, but just to be safe."

She nodded glumly and turned to follow the servant, jogging a bit to catch up. A few minutes later, he deposited her in another room in the same stoic fashion before continuing on his way.

Standing in the doorway Rose inspected her room for the time being. It was plain but warm, with two large western-facing windows allowing streams of light to peel in. A dark oak four-post bed sat between the windows, with a large wardrobe and a plush chair on the opposite wall. A faded oriental rug ran the length of the room between the bed and the other furniture, complementing green and gold shades of the floral paintings on the wall.

The room was spotless, which Rose found strange considering all but one servant had left the house. She brushed the thought aside for now - these things had a way of revealing themselves in time.

Time. She wondered what he was doing in his room by himself.

Rose hoisted up one of the window sashes so she could feel the warm summer breeze on her skin, catching a fragrant whiff of flowers. There must be a garden just out of view. Leaning her elbow on the windowsill she rested her head on her hand, taking in the scenery. She wanted to tell him how beautiful it was.

Straightening, Rose crossed the room toward the door. _I don't care what century this is_, she thought. _I don't need to rest and I don't need to be chaperoned around my friend. And anyway, the Queen's chambers were in a different wing entirely._

Quietly shutting the door behind her Rose set off down the silent corridor, retracing her steps from a few minutes earlier. After trying a couple wrong doors - it really was a large estate - she found the right one. Though she wouldn't have known it if she'd arrived five seconds later because she found the Doctor straddling his open windowsill, seemingly about to leap.

"Oi, what are you doing?" Rose half whispered, half yelled.

At the sound of her voice he whipped his head toward her, that 1000-wat smile on full voltage. "Rose! I was just coming to get you!"

"Don't know how you would've managed that with two broken legs. We're on the second floor, you know."

"That's why I have this!" he said, leaning through the open window and pulling something up. Rose realized he had tied his bedsheets together to form a rope. She laughed.

"What?"

"I think you've been watching too many prison escape films, Doctor."

"I haven't seen any, in fact, thought of this all on my own. Although that genre sounds spectacular, let's watch some next movie night."

"Okay, deal." She was beaming now. He never looked so boyish as he did when he was scheming and even though she thwarted his brilliant plan by simply walking down the hallway he wasn't upset in the slightest. She sat at the edge of his bed, which was similar to hers but backed against the opposite wall, and noticed that he must have taken off his brown pin-striped jacket during his bed sheet tying efforts. Scanning the room she found it, haphazardly thrown on an armchair.

Looking back to him she realized he had loosened his tie as well, giving him a disheveled professor look. Considering the Doctor's propensity for layers, he was practically in a state of undress. She laughed to herself remembering his words from earlier - _some things are relative._ Being alone with him in a bedroom for the second time today, she couldn't help but wish their both of their states of undress was a little less relative and a little more... unequivocal.

"Well I guess there's no reason to escape anymore," he said, a touch downtrodden. "Unless you want to shimmy down and walk around the grounds?"

"I'm not shimming down anything," she said firmly. "I'm a tad more breakable than you, you know."

"I know," he said, his voice low, his eyes boring into her with a sad sweetness. Rose didn't know what to do with that look so she crossed the room, picked up his crumpled jacket, and folded it neatly before laying it across the back of the chair.

He watched her in silence. It was such a small gesture, something mother might do for a child, or a wife for a husband. That last thought stuck with him. He had told her once before that he didn't do domestic, and it was true, he just wasn't wired that way. But with Rose he did want... more. He didn't know exactly what _more_ entailed but he wanted it, always had. His former self had been able to suppress those feelings, buried them deep inside him until he almost forgot they existed.

That is, until he saw what she went through to rescue him on the game station. When she saved him, when she saved them all, it broke down every barrier he had put up, every mental door he had locked, every feeling he had cemented still within him. He didn't _have_ to extract the vortex from her in the way he did, but he_ needed_ to. He had still felt that need, that desire, when he regenerated, thereby influencing the next identity he became. His new self was younger-looking, more charming, and desperately eager for her touch. At first, that need was sated by simply holding her hand. But lately he had been realizing that it no longer was enough.

Yes, the Doctor wanted more from Rose. And he wanted it now.

In three quick paces he crossed the room from where he was standing by the window to Rose, just straightening from draping his jacket across the chair. He put his hands on her shoulders and brought his lips down to rest on her head, breathing her in.

Rose froze, heart beating wildly. She was shocked and unsurprised at the same time. She had noticed a difference in his touch since he changed - it had become more lingering, more needy, more torturous. It was like he could finally sense how she'd always felt about him and was using it against her. She thought in his mind it was playful, all in good fun. She never let herself dream the intention behind his new touches was sincere. Well, not much anyway.

Yet there he stood behind her, mouth pressed into her wavy blonde hair, thumbs rubbing magical circles along her shoulder blades. And if she'd had any remaining doubts, they were erased when he took a step closer, closing the small gap between them, pressing himself into the small of her back. She made a quiet noise at the base of her throat and closed her eyes, still frozen in place. Feeling him there, the hard evidence of his desire against her, it was too much and not enough. So she stayed still.

Encouraged by the noise she made, the Doctor ran his hands down her arms, encircling them around her stomach. Leaning down, he planted two light kisses on her neck, over her pulse point, once again setting fire to her veins, making her shudder. "Rose," he whispered in her ear, rocking against her.

Something snapped inside her then and she pulled his arms away, walking swiftly to the still-open window, looking out but not seeing. She tilted her head upwards, unsuccessfully trying to stop the tears from spilling over.

"What's wrong?" he asked quietly, not moving from his spot, not wanting to upset her any more.

"Why now?" she said turning to him, her face synched in confusion and anger, tears streaming freely. "Why not be-... Why now?"

She didn't realize it had cut her so deeply, the unrequitedness of it. So much that on the threshold of receiving everything she'd always longed for, it hurt her all the more.

He looked down, ashamed and angry. Furious with himself that, once again, he was to blame for her tears being shed. Tentatively, he walked toward her, reaching out for her hands. Stifling a soft sob, she met his reach, wanting to wipe that look out of his eyes regardless of how she felt. He touched his forehead to hers.

"I've always felt this way, Rose. Always." He pulled back in frustration, yanking at the back of his hair, trying to wrestle his thoughts into any kind of sentence that would make her tears stop flowing. "Do you remember anything from the game station, when the vortex was within you?" he asked desperately.

"No, I- I could see everything. It hurt..." her voice broke at the memory.

But the Doctor pushed on, determined to make her understand. "You looked at me, with your brilliant eyes filled with the light from the TARDIS, the vortex. You said, 'I'm burning up. It's killing me.'"

He was looking at Rose, but he was somewhere else. In the reflection of his eyes, Rose could almost see the version of her he was looking at. Touched that he remembered her words, even if she did not, she reached for his hands again.

Encouraged he continued. "I knew it was eating you up, the bad wolf, that I had to get it out of you and into me. So I took you in my arms," he dropped her hands once more to carry out the motion he just described. "I looked into your eyes, I looked into you, and I said, 'I think you need a...'"

"Doctor," she said, both completing his sentence and saying his name. Two meanings in one. Two men in one. Her eyes widened as she remembered, as it all came flooding back, the daleks, the omnipotence, the pain, the burning, his eyes, his arms, his lips. In a sense, she almost felt like she did then, when the vortex was inside her. Everything became clear, suddenly. It was all so simple.

She reached up and took his head in her hands and slowly brought his lips down to hers. The feeling was almost unbearable for both of them and they grasped at each other, gasping, trying to eliminate every molecule of space between them. He started to run his tongue along her lips but before he could finish she opened her needy mouth to him, thrusting her tongue against his. He growled and pushed her back against the windowsill, her head bumping the glass lightly. More bits of them were touching than ever before and it still wasn't enough. Some things are relative.

There was a knock at the door.

They froze, using the interruption as a much needed break for air. The Doctor took three long breaths before barking, "What?"

"Queen Victoria requests your presence in the foyer at once," the butler's voice boomed through the closed door. "And I cannot find your... friend."

"She's probably wandered off, I'll find her," the Doctor said sternly. "Tell the Queen we'll be downstairs in five minutes."

They remained in their silent embrace against the window until they heard the butler's footsteps drifting down the hall. The Doctor kissed Rose's forehead before stepping away, letting out a shaky breath and running his hand roughly through his hair. "I just... give me a minute," he said by way of apology, his voice softer, as he walked to the other side of the room. Rose straightened her clothes - as much as one can straighten an overall skirt - while she waited for him to regain his composure.

After a moment he turned to her with a sheepish smile. "Well, I suppose we should do what the Queen demands," he said brightly, trying to shake off the arousal he still felt. He offered his arm to her. Crossing the room she took it, leaning up to kiss him on the cheek.

"I suppose," she said. "Though I have half the mind to tell her I'm not amused by her timing."

"Rose Tyler, don't you dare," he laughed, shaking his head. "I knew I should have spent my sixpence on the Elephant man."


	4. Chapter 4

***Author's Note: Queen Victoria grows tired of Rose's "nakedness" and sends her off to change. However, Rose gets an unexpected (or totally expected) visitor in her bedroom. One more chapter after this! Thanks for the reviews so far, keep 'em coming. :)***

Dusk gave an eery feeling to the room that housed the Endeavor telescope in Torchwood Manner, but the Doctor and Rose hardly noticed. They were too busy reveling in the closeness of one another. Since Queen Victoria had so rudely interrupted their burst of passion in the Doctor's bedroom and the two were forced to rejoin the group, they'd practically reverted into teenagers. The slightest touch made Rose's cheeks flush and the Doctor's hearts race. He made an extra effort to stand particularly close to her, occasionally placing his hand on her back or bumping her hip with his if the Queen wasn't looking. For her part, Rose walked with an extra switch in her step and would distractedly run fingers along her collarbone, pretending she didn't know he was looking.

They were working themselves up so much that they hardly realized when the bald butler suggested the party prepare for dinner.

"Could we find some clothes for Miss Tyler?" the Queen said, eying the pair not for the first time today. "I'm tired of nakedness."

Hoping to get a rise of the Doctor more than anything, Rose ventured, "It's not amusing is it?" earning her yet another glare from the Queen. The Doctor, suppressing a giggle, mouthed "stop it" at his companion and she rapped his chest playfully with her fist. He leaned into her touch and she thought she heard a low growl at the back of her throat. Rose was suddenly grateful at the Queen's request for a wardrobe change.

Rose and the Doctor were once again escorted to their respective rooms by the strange butler. He did so in the same stern manner, though this time he motioned toward the wardrobe before leaving Rose's room. Opening it, she found several beautiful Victorian dresses in what looked to be about her size. She couldn't help but squeal - playing dress up was half the fun of these adventures.

One by one Rose held the dresses up to her, scrutinizing them in the wardrobe mirror. She paused at her reflection when she held up a deep blue velvet gown with white lace inlay. Smiling at the beauty of the ornate dress, she swung it back and forth in front of her, hoping against hope that there might be some dancing after dinner. She hadn't danced with this version of the Doctor yet.

So caught up in her girlish pleasure, she didn't hear the bedroom door swing open behind her. "You look beautiful," the Doctor said, his voice deep. She gasped in surprise, her eyes finding his reflection in the mirror. She turned to him, still holding the dress in front of her.

"Oh, so you were able to find me without jumping out a window?" she chided. He didn't look to be in a joking mood, but she couldn't resist. He chuckled while closing the door behind him and making his way to join her in front of the wardrobe, never breaking eye contact. Her pulse rate hastened with every step he took until they were toe to toe, and she stopped paying attention to anything but the dark look in his eyes.

"Hello," he said softly with a small smile, running a finger along her jawline. "Hello," she whispered dropping the dress, the fabric pooling at their feet. She reached her hands under his jacket, raking them slowly from his shoulder blades down his back.

The Doctor had only come by to pick Rose up on the way to meet the rest of the party in the dining room, and on the walk to her room had even given himself an internal lecture about keeping his desire in control. It would be suspicious if they kept the group waiting yet again. But seeing her so happy, smiling at herself in the mirror, looking completely ravishing... he had to touch her, if only a stroke of her face. His last shred of self control, however, disintegrated when she ran her hands down his back.

This time Rose was sure she heard him growl when he brought his face down to hers, capturing her lips in a soft, deep kiss. She moaned quietly and snaked one hand out from under his jacket and buried it in his hair, clutching him to her as if frightened he'd disappear. If enough oxygen could make its way to her brain in order to form a coherent thought, she would have realized it was, in fact, her fear. That the Doctor was finally reciprocating her deep emotions was almost too good to be true, a trick of the imagination, a dream she would soon wake up from.

But instead of analyzing her emotions she simply clutched him closer, opening her mouth to his. She ran her tongue along the roof of his mouth, eliciting a moan from him, and then lightly bit his swollen bottom lip. His hips bucked toward her and she felt his erection, possibly even harder than it was before.

In a moment of clarity Rose realized they didn't have enough time, not to do this the way she wanted. It had taken them so long to finally get to this place, she wasn't about to make love to him in a rush before dinner with her blasted overall skirt still on. At the same time, she couldn't let him leave this room in the same frustrated agony that he'd done before. That just wasn't healthy, advanced alien species or not.

Without breaking their kiss, Rose pushed the Doctor backwards until his legs hit the bed and she nudged him to sit down. He obliged and spread his legs, pulling her in closer to him. He lowered a hand to the inside of her knee and slowly ran his fingers up along the black thigh-high tights until he hit where the stocking met her skin. He laughed darkly into her mouth at this discovery and dipped a finger underneath the fabric, as if uncertain if he wanted to pull it off or leave it on.

Rose knew she couldn't let him make a decision either way - she was barely holding on to her resolve as it was - and gently pulled his hand away with a gasp. Grabbing his other wrist, she shifted her weight against him so that he fell back on the bed, Rose pinning his hands to the mattress next to his head. He moaned again, louder this time, as she shifted her hips against him, creating friction in just the right places.

Somehow finding the strength to tear her lips from his, Rose pushed open his suit jacket and began unbuttoning his blue Oxford, kissing and nibbling as she went. He brought his hands down to tangle in her light locks, whispering her name between gasps. His excitement spurred Rose on and, having finished with his shirt, her hands went to work on his belt. She brought her mouth up to his left nipple and sucked hard, his hips bucking against her involuntarily.

Somewhere between the wardrobe and the bed the Doctor had figured out what Rose was planning. While he agreed with her on the logical side - he just didn't have enough time to do everything he wanted, _needed_ to do to her before dinner - he longed to be inside her, to feel her surrounding him. He silently promised himself and her that there would be time for that later. For now, this was a more than satisfactory plan B.

Finally undoing his belt, button, and zipper, Rose pushed his trousers down. Given that they were pressed for time she wasn't about to bother with his trainers. Instead she ran her hand lightly along him where he was straining painfully against his boxer briefs. Starting below his bellybutton, Rose kissed and licked her way down that trail of hair until she reached the elastic of his pants. Grasping it in her teeth she looked up to make sure he was watching - he was - and pulled his underwear down, using her hands to help.

He watched the hunger grow in her eyes as his cock was finally revealed, so hard for her. Reaching for her face he pulled her back up to him, moaning into a deep kiss. She trailed her hand over him and upon reaching his base she slowly tightened her grip until he bucked into her. Keeping that pressure, she worked him with her hand until he had to break their kiss due to oxygen deprivation, swearing under his breath.

She crawled back down his long body and ran her tongue over his tip, moaning as she tasted the bit of saltiness that had already seeped out. It was then that the Doctor lost all coherent thought, feeling Rose's mouth in a place that he never thought possible, that he'd never even allowed himself to dream of. She closed her lips around him and moved her mouth downward, taking in as much of him as she could until she felt her gag reflex. Using her hand to work the part of him her mouth could not reach, she set up a steady rhythm, twisting slightly on the upward motion.

As his gasps increased in speed her mouth did as well, and she brought her other hand from his thigh to stroke his balls, evoking his loudest moan yet.

"So close," he gasped, as if by warning, but she wasn't about to take her mouth of him. Keeping her hand tight around his base, she lowered her mouth onto him even deeper, fighting the urge the gag. One hand grasping at the bedsheets, the other still tangled in her hair, he came with a low groan. She continued her movements, swallowing as she went, until he started to grow soft.

Climbing back up him, she rested her head on his still-heaving chest, smiling at having at least relieved his tension. He clutched her to him and kissed her head, opening his mouth to speak several times before closing it, again finding himself at a loss for words. Only his Rose could do this to him.

When his breathing evened, she propped herself on her elbow. "We should probably head down," she said quietly. He pulled her head down for a long kiss and held it there while he whispered in her ear, "The things that I'm going to do to you later, Rose Tyler." The feeling that had been pooling in her stomach all day sharpened at those words, and she wished he could do those things to her now. Blast the monarchy and the mystery that was enveloping this damn estate.

She kissed his neck and rolled off of him. Realizing the beautiful blue dress was still on the floor, she walked over and picked it up, smoothing out the few wrinkles. When she turned back to him he was tucking his shirt into his trousers. He met her gaze and even after all that he still had a lustful look in his eyes, she noted.

"I'll head down first while you finish getting dressed," he said, walking over to pant a kiss on her forehead. "If all goes well this dinner will be short and the Queen will want to go to bed soon after." He winked at her, walking toward the door. "By the way, I highly recommend the blue dress. But keep the stockings." And with a meaningful look he closed the door behind him.

Rose sighed and started to undo the clasp of one overall strap when she realized her wardrobe contained no appropriate shoes. Remembering that she'd noticed another wardrobe in the hallway, she walked out to it, opened the door, and shrieked when she found a young, terrified maid hiding inside. She had a sinking feeling that bedtime wouldn't come anytime soon.


	5. Chapter 5

***Author's Note: So, I had to break this last part up into two chapters. Don't hate me! The final chapter will be posted tomorrow and the payoff will be worth it. Thanks for all your kind words and favorites. Stick with me!***

_Look, inside your eyes, you've seen it too. There is something of the wolf about you. You burnt like the sun, but all I require is the moon._

The wolf's words echoed in Rose's head. She repeated them silently, over and over, until they sounded more than prose, like a poem or a prayer.

She clutched the Doctor's hand as they walked swiftly down the dark hallways of the Torchwood Estate, moonlight cascading over their faces with each window they passed. There was no one to see them to their rooms now, the bald butler having since met his demise, and Queen Victoria so shaken up that she returned immediately to her quarters, not caring in the least what happened to the Doctor and his feral child. So the Doctor lead the way to his room, as it was closest and needed to make sure Rose was truly alright.

_There is something of the wolf about you_.

The Doctor felt Rose's grasp on his hand tighten. He looked down and saw that her brow was knit. She was lost in thought, her eyes darting while staring off toward the end of the corridor, as if searching for something that wasn't there. "You okay?" the Doctor asked, nudging her shoulder with his.

Shaking her thoughts clear, Rose offered up an unconvincing smile. "Yeah, 'course."

The Doctor studied her face, unconvinced, as the pair rounded the last corner before the his bedroom. He opened the door for her and stepped aside, allowing her to pass through first, before following and closing the door behind them. Rose stood still just a few paces into the room, again lost in the workings of her mind.

The Doctor took her hand and lead her over to the plush armchair. Rose sat instinctively, breaking from her thoughts to marvel at how it seemed like days ago that she was picking up the Doctor's rumpled jacket from this very chair. Time, too, is relative.

Without speaking, the Doctor gently took Rose's arms and lifted them up toward his face, examining the under side of her wrists before rotating them both, scrutinizing her flesh. There were several welts all the way around, acquired from pulling against the shackles she was chained with in the basement, he presumed. He looked at her warmly, running a thumb softly over the red marks. He expected nothing less - his Rose could never accept imprisonment, even in the face of a werewolf.

Rose's consciousness came back to the present at his tender touch and she suddenly felt the stinging in her wrist. It was as if her injury did not exist until his eyes found it. She watched him drop one wrist as he reached into his pocket and withdrew the sonic screwdriver. She let her free hand fall to her lap as he began to focus on the other, moving the device meticulously over her raw skin until it was less red and more of a shiny pink.

_Now I'm truly pink and yellow_, she thought, remembering their last adventure, her lips drawing into a slow smile. Relieved at her change in expression, the Doctor ventured his question again. "Please, won't you tell me what's bothering you?" Finished with her left wrist, he lowered her hand to her lap, picked up her right hand, and set to work at the red marks there.

Rose hesitated and he grimaced, figuring he knew exactly what was upsetting her. "Do you regret before, in your room?" he asked quietly. "Was it too much? It's my fault, this daft new body, just when I think I have control of it I learn there are more even impulses that need reigning in." His voice grew rougher as he spoke, furious with himself for blurring the boundaries. _If this ruins what we have together, if this makes her want to go home, I'll never for-_

"No! No, it's no that," Rose said, interrupting his thoughts, and blushing at the memory. "It's just... it's something the wolf said, when we were chained in the basement." She paused, not wanting to say the words aloud for fear of giving them more weight. One look into the Doctor's concerned eyes spurred her on. "He said that there was something of the wolf about me. He knew about Satellite Five, about the vortex, about my eyes..." her voice caught, her gaze distant, again lost in the memory. "I thought I'd never hear those words again," she whispered.

The Doctor had finished mending her second wrist but didn't let it go. He needed a physical connection between them as she looked so distraught, hoping his touch could siphon some of the anguish away from her and into him. "Did he say 'Bad Wolf?'" he asked.

She wracked her brain, bringing herself back to the moment. "No," she said, shaking her head slowly. "No, don't think so. Just 'something of the wolf.'"

The Doctor couldn't stop himself from sighing in relief. "He was probably just reading your energy," he explained. "Something as powerful as the vortex always leaves a metaphysical watermark, if you will, so he was likely picking up on that, being a creature from another wold himself." Mulling over the implications of the wolf's words, the Doctor rubbed the pad of his thumb along the newly pink skin on Rose's wrist, sending a spark up her vein below.

"Nah, I think we're done with 'Bad Wolf,'" he said, reassuring her. "You can just erase that phrase from your mind, unless you're reading certain Earth nursery rhymes, though I'm not sure why you would, being fully grown and all. And if you do, don't read the Brothers Grimm versions, they're, well, grim." They exchanged a knowing smile, fondly acknowledging that his new gob just went on and on sometimes, far beyond where it needed to.

"What I mean is, we averted the end of the world before. And if we have to, we'll do it again. But it's not going to happen anytime soon. We've got too much ahead of us, you and me." The Doctor said this last bit for his benefit as much as hers, knowing whatever they had ahead of them wouldn't be enough. Not for him at least. There were many wonderful variables and uncertainties in the universe, but losing Rose was not one of them. It was a fact.

Pushing this thought aside, the Doctor raised her wrist that was still in hand and held it to his cool lips, keeping it there for a moment. Rose froze, breath caught in her throat, eyes locked on his, which were locked on hers. He lowered her wrist just enough to murmur, "Are you okay now?" and returned his lips slightly to the left of the spot they just were, brushing her wrist with a kiss.

She nodded and slowly retracted her arm toward her body, pulling his hand with it. Eyes still locked, she reached up for his waist and pulled, prompting him to kneel on the floor in front of her. He free hand gently held her face as he examined her features in the moonlight. He felt the need for her again bubbling inside him, but it was different than before - more possessive and protective. The imagine of her chained in the estate basement passed through his mind and the fury he had felt then returned. How _dare_ someone hold his Rose against her will, frighten her, remind her of the time she had lost the old him.

Rose noticed the change in his expression and the darkening of his eyes. She ran her hand along his arm until it rested on his hand that was cupping her face. "Doctor?" she asked, uncertain.

At the sound of her voice his expression softened and he brought his forehead to rest against hers. Her hand ran up and down his arm that was holding her head still, attempting to comfort him, but only succeeding in fanning the flames within them both. He brought his lips toward hers and then paused, remembering the fears he had conjured up before. _What if we wreck everything? What if..._

His thoughts were quelled with the feeling of her plush lips on his. They stayed like that for a moment, reveling in the feel of each other, until Rose couldn't hold back a soft, needy sound from the back of her throat. Finally releasing her wrist, he brought his other arm around her waist, pulling her closer, their lips finding a slow, soft rhythm.

As he kissed her he willed away her fears about Bad Wolf and her doubts about his new self. And as his lips allayed her fears, he found his floating away as well; the thought of her growing old, the inevitability of her leaving him. In this moment, none of that mattered. _This, right here, this is our forever. _

With this thought his need boiled over - forever could not come soon enough. He ran his tongue along her swelling lips and she parted them, gasping, savoring his touch. She felt a different kind of hunger from him as he kissed her this time and it made the simmering flame that was burning in her all day intensify into a raging blaze. It felt like she would die if he wasn't soon inside her, encompassing her, enveloping her.

"Doctor, I need you," was the closest she came to articulating this, breaking the kiss for some much needed air and to nibble at the inviting flesh of his neck. She spread her legs and slouched down in the chair, bringing him closer to where she needed him, despite all the layers between them. The denim skirt of her overalls rode up her tights, prohibiting her movement, and she cursed the outfit choice not for the first time today.

The Doctor growled as she allowed his waist between her legs, pushing into her thigh through his trousers, wanting her to feel how turned on he was. His lips latched on to her neck, alternately sucking and pulling her skin lightly between his teeth. These sensations overwhelmed Rose's mind and she moaned, grasping the hair at the nape of his neck.

"Wait, wait," she gasped, wriggling her hands between them and pushing against his chest. He withdrew his mouth and leaned back, hooded eyes looking at her questioningly. She continued her gentle pushing until they were both standing. She stood on her tiptoes and gave him a chaste kiss before backing away toward the door.

"Don't move," she said, voice breathy, inwardly laughing at the forsaken look in his eyes. "I just have to get something."

And with that she bolted out the door, leaving the Doctor confused, panting, and standing in front of a now-empty chair.


	6. Chapter 6

***Author's Note: The final chapter! Rose returns to the Doctor's room and, well, yeah. Hope you liked my take on this episode. Reviews appreciated. Thanks for reading!***

The Doctor's breath evened as he stood rooted to the spot he was standing in when Rose left the room. He knew she wasn't being literal when she told him not to move, but he didn't want to do anything that might risk breaking the spell behind what was happening between them.

For the first time, he had a chance to wonder at the TARDIS bringing them to a time and place about 100 years and more than 100 miles astray from his intended destination. Had she known this would happen? He realized his beloved ship could sense that he was lonely, more than ever before. Perhaps she had detected some similar feelings in Rose too. Maybe she knew that, finally, it was time for them.

His internal clock told him that, based on Rose's average walking speed and the distance from his bedroom to hers, she should have been back 97 seconds ago. Whatever she had to retrieve, and he assumed her room was where she went to fetch it, it required more time than simply picking it up and bringing it back. To pass the time, the Doctor began calculating pi and made it to the 274th decimal place when he heard his bedroom door creek open.

His jaw dropped as he regarded the creature walking over the threshold, feeling so overwhelmed that he wouldn't be able to get to 3.14 if he had tried to start his calculations over again. But equations were the furthest thing from his mind now, with the entirety of his brain consumed with cataloging every millimeter of the figure that stood before him.

"You're being rude again," she said, tongue peeking out of the corner of her smile.

"Wha..."

"You're gawking."

"I'm- Oh, sorry," he said, closing his mouth and refocusing his eyes on her face with effort.

Earlier that day, upon seeing the werewolf for the first time, he had remarked that the hybrid being was beautiful. But in this moment, he realized that use was a bastardization of the word. In fact, every other time he had called something, somewhere, or someone beautiful it had been a false idol. It wasn't until she stepped through his bedroom door in the Torchwood Estate that he truly understood the meaning behind that word.

Blue velvet. The lush fabric encompassed the Doctor's vision. It was the dress she had found in her bedroom wardrobe, the one she was holding when he came to her room before dinner, the dress she had been intending to put on when she found the hiding maid and was taken captive. After everything that had happened that day, the dress was simply waiting for her, laid out on her bed as she'd left it. And it was made for her, clinging in all the right places, flowing in others, the white lace inlay accentuating the most tempting parts of her.

She twisted at the waist, making the blue fabric of the skirt flow like ripples in a pond. The Doctor felt a thirst for something else rise to the surface inside him, but he didn't dare move from his spot on the floor, couldn't take his eyes off her. Rose began to grow a bit self-conscious under his gaze.

"Are you gonna tell me I'd be better off in a bin bag again?" she asked, remembering his words from this morning.

"Absolutely not," he said, voice deeper than she had ever heard it. The longing evident in his tone made her stomach flip. "Rose, come here." He extended an arm, beckoning her. Picking up the front of the skirt, she slowly made her way to him, remembering where they had left off when she'd fled the room. This dress was more voluminous, but at least it had much more give than the denim overall skirt.

Rose reached the spot in front of him, standing toe to toe, and looked up into that face that she had so quickly grown to love. She trusted him more than ever and felt an affinity for this man, this Time Lord, that she hadn't felt for anyone before. She looked into his eyes, hoping to communicate these feelings, and was surprised to see the same thoughts flowing out of him. He raised his hand, backs of his fingers brushing along her cheek, until he lightly took hold of her head, his thumb stroking the lobe of his ear.

"You look-" he started, and she thought she heard his voice crack a little. "You _are_," he corrected, "magnificent."

She blushed and looked down, uneasy with the intensity of the compliment.

"No, Rose, you... Oh, how can I make you understand," he said in a hushed tone, mind racing, trying to decipher how to describe exactly how he thought of her. For some reason, he didn't know why, his thoughts went back to their first adventure together, five billion years into the future, waiting for the end of the Earth. The look in her eye when she realized it was gone and that no one had noticed, they were too busy saving themselves. That look was something he'd never forget and one that he suddenly related to. Rose had been there, holding his hand, all that time and he'd hardly noticed, hardly realized how he felt.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, shaking his head, his other hand coming to rest on her cheek.

Rose looked at him questioning, not understanding, but seeing the anguish written across his face she needed to comfort him. Stepping closer, she slipped her hands under his jacket, rubbing his back soothingly. "S'alright," she said softly. "Whatever it is, it's alright."

He slowly brought his lips down to hers, needing her to know, needing to make her understand. His lips moved with such passion, such emotion, that had the Earth been breaking up in that very moment Rose wouldn't have noticed. She melted into him, her lips, her hips, her arms all searching for contact with his skin. She whimpered into his mouth as their tongues met and he knew what she needed. Holding her waist firmly he walked her backwards, never breaking their embrace, until she was sitting on his mattress. She moved back on the bed, supported on her elbows, and he climbed on top of her.

The weight of his body on hers nearly made her moan again and she parted her legs, needing him to be that much closer. Rocking into her, he kissed her earlobe, her jaw, her neck, and licked down until he found the sweet spot he had liked before. He again set to work sucking and nibbling at her skin, leaving marks for the the next morning. Rose gasped at the feeling, which traveled much lower, and she unsuccessfully tried to pull his jacket off his shoulders.

Holding himself up on one elbow, then the other, he discarded the jacket and was about to go back to devouring her neck when she shoved his shoulder, catching him off guard, and rolling him over onto his back. Smirking as she straddled him, she quickly went to work at his tie and Oxford, ripping the shirt open toward the bottom when she grew tired of working the small buttons. He roughly pulled her down to him at this display of desire, smothering her mouth with his, needing her to know an inkling of his feelings for her.

He ran his hands up and down the soft blue velvet covering her arms, delighting in the slight shiver his touches brought forth. She worked her hands down between them and undid his belt and trousers. Breath catching, his arms left hers so he could push his slacks the rest of the way down, kicking his trainers off in the process.

He couldn't believe that this was actually happening. That the wonderful woman who had already given him so much was now going to give him what he desired most. What he didn't deserve. Part of him wanted to tell her that he wasn't worth of someone as precious as her, but that part was overruled by the new-new hormones raging through is body.

Rose caught his plush bottom lip between her teeth and she arranged the skirt of her dress around him. She slowly rubbed herself along the length of his hardness, cursing that she hadn't previously discarded her knickers. Regardless, she needed him to feel how wet she was, that she'd been burning for this all day. The Doctor moaned at the contact and marveled at how slick her pants were against him. When she was over his tip, he couldn't help but buck his hips upward, pushing into the lacy fabric of her underwear. She gasped at the sensation, however slight, as it was the most she'd ever felt him there.

Steeling his control the Doctor pushed her gently backwards, onto his thighs, and he sat up, meeting her lips once again. "Turn around," he whispered, and she did, trembling slightly in his lap. She didn't know what he was playing at, but whatever he said in that moment she would do without a second thought.

The Doctor slowly began to undo the corset string that ran up the back of her dress. Starting from the top he worked the string downward, each brush of his fingertips against Rose's skin sending a shiver down her spine. Soon her shoulders were exposed and he lowered his mouth to one, sucking and lapping at the soft skin there. Rose gasped, throwing her head back against his neck. He pushed his cock against her lower back, eliciting a soft moan, as he furiously worked to free the rest of the corset.

Rose marveled at the tenderness of his touches. If this wasn't happening to her right now, she never in a million years would have believed he could be this man. This day had been riddled with horror and tragedy, but the times she'd spent alone with the Doctor felt like a dream. With his help, she had finally come to terms with his regeneration and was amazed that he was finally reciprocating her deep affection. She was still in awe that he needed her as much as she needed him, that they were taking it this far.

Having finally succeeded in undoing her corset, he lifted his head and fingered the neckline of the dress, which still hung loosely around Rose's shoulders. She froze in anticipation, needing him to have more of her, all of her. A soft noise escaped her throat as he began to pull the dress down, his nose nuzzling against her ear. He pulled the fabric off her bare breasts and down her arms, never touching her, until the top of the dress came to rest in her lap. His hands circled her stomach and she turned her head to find him there, waiting to capture her lips once again.

His hands began to rise up her waist and she gasped in at the thought of him touching her higher, but he stopped when his fingers brushed the bottom of her breasts. Before she could sigh in frustration, in one swift movement he flipped her onto her back, pulled the rest of her lovely dress off, and discarded what remained of his shirt as well. They would only do this for the first time - the first of many, he hoped silently - once, and he was determined to do it right. The way she deserved.

Propping himself up on his side next to her, he took his beautiful girl in with his eyes first. So firm, yet soft, and growing rosier by the second. He tried to memorize the way her breasts moved as she breathed heavily, never taking her eyes off his face. Lightly, he ran two fingers down the space between her breasts, continuing down to her navel. Rose arched her back into his touch, needing more, so much more.

He brought his hand up to her right breast and circled the soft mound of flesh, squeezing it gently, fingers skirting around the peaked nipple. She whimpered and one look at her face told him what she longed for. He hadn't meant to tease her while he memorized her body, but her needy look told him she could be mapped another time. He ran a finger over the dark peak, first lightly, then harder, a throaty moan leaving Rose's mouth. He continued his motions on that breast while bringing his mouth down to the other, running his tongue over and around the hardening nipple. He sucked and Rose cried out louder, grasping his shoulders to her.

The sound made him grow harder than he ever thought possible and he knew he had to speed things up, for both their sakes. Taking her other nipple in his mouth and lavishing the same attention that he did its twin, he ran a hand down her torso to the spot she wanted him to touch her most. She was all bare and completely smooth, and for a nanosecond he wondered how and where she had accomplished this. He ran a finger along her slit and was again overcome by her wetness, all of it for him. He moved his between her folds and prodded her entrance, eliciting yet another throaty gasp and hip thrust from his lovely girl.

His mouth released her breast and he quickly kissed his way down her, stopping briefly at her ribs, her bellybutton, her hip, until his tongue found that swelling bundle of nerves just above his finger. He gave her clit a long lick and he thrust his finger in up to the third knuckle and Rose almost came right there, unable to stop her legs from quivering. They hadn't done that since her very first time with Jimmy Stone, and that was more out of fear than arousal.

Rose pushed up on the Doctor's forehead and for a split-second he was afraid she was going to tell him to stop, that this was all a mistake, that she'd see him in the morning. But the words that fell from her mouth next pushed aside any and all remaining fears.

"Doctor I- I need you inside me," she panted, her eyes pleading. In an instant he crawled back up her body, crushing her lips with a deep kiss, Rose tasting a hint of herself on his tongue. He positioned himself over her and she spread her legs wide, lifting her right ankle to rest on his left hip. She could feel his cock hovering at her entrance and had to swallow away the feeling that she would go over the edge before he was even inside her. She dug her nails into his shoulders.

The Doctor took her chin in his large hand so she would look into his eyes. She saw that look again, the one he had just before he kissed her, just before he said he was sorry. But this time she understood the look, everything it entailed, everything it offered. Tears began to spring from behind her eyes and she whispered, "Me too."

He bent down to kiss her so slowly, so tenderly, at the moment he thrust into her. He restrained himself as much as he could, but he pushed all the way inside her in one swift movement. He stilled there and let out a shaky sigh as he met Rose's eyes again, watching her expression as she adjusted to his size; watching her expression as she urged him on for more.

He bent his head and pulled out slowly, almost all the way, before thrusting back in at an equally slow pace. His face, against her neck, contorted in concentration at the control needed to move at such a pace, but he was determined to do this for her. After three thrusts in this manner Rose was right at the edge of orgasm, panting loudly, soft noises emanating from the back of her throat. Sensing this, the Doctor reached a hand between them and rubbed his thumb over her clit, perfectly timed with his fourth slow, deep push.

She came hard, grasping at the back of his neck, the wave of the sensation washing over her like surf. And in that moment she saw him, all of him, completely. Not the man he was before, and not the man he looked like now, but just him. _My Doctor._

She moaned this last thought out loud and the Doctor quickened his thrusts as she rode out the orgasm. Soon, he was pounding into her, the sound of her coming stripping away the last of his control. She circled both legs around his back, wanting him to reach as far inside her as possible, until he moaned loudly against her neck. He stayed there for a moment, two sets of lungs panting, three hearts racing.

Finally he lifted his lips to hers for a soft, lazy kiss, slowly slipping out of her. She smiled when she felt the sticky warmth trickle out between her legs. He rolled onto his back and she nestled into his side, fitting together so well both wondered why they couldn't put this puzzle together before. They drifted to sleep like that, without uttering another word, completely sated in every way.

* * *

The next morning, when Rose's consciousness was struggling between sleep and wake, she heard soft words whispered into her ear. Sleep lost the battle and Rose opened her eyes, contemplating what she just heard and what she saw before her. A certain Time Lord with gloriously disheveled hair was leaning over her, nearly nose to nose. She smiled as her lips met hers. When he let her come up for air she said, "I love you, too."


End file.
